Dead Cheap

So there I was, rummaging through the delightful detritus of WotNot – Westerleigh’s premier temple of tat – when I happened upon something that stopped me dead in my tracks. A coffin. Not a prop. Not a novelty drinks cabinet. A fully-specified, lined-and-latched, six-sided wooden overcoat. £60. Slightly used, perhaps?

Naturally, the first question that popped into my head was: is it new, or has someone... vacated it? I mean, this is WotNot, not a vampire clearance sale. Did the original occupant have a change of heart and claw their way out over Easter? Is there a “no longer needed” section in the obituaries now?

Because if it is second-hand, I need to know – was it barely used or a full-service burial model? I’d want to check for wear and tear. Bit like buying a motorhome, really – low mileage, non-smoker, one careful corpse.

Now, people often talk about planning for the future – pensions, equity release, stockpiling beans – but few take the practical step of securing their final resting place early, ideally from the second-hand aisle. And with funeral costs spiralling faster than a Tory apology, a pre-owned box at car-boot prices is starting to look rather wise.

I’m genuinely tempted. Stick it in the garage, slap a cushion in it, and it’s an emergency chaise longue. Or prop it up in the hallway – “Oh that? Just future-proofing. Care for a G&T?”

Some might say it’s morbid. I call it posthumous planning. A practical response to a country that’s economically flatlining while the government insists it's 'getting back on track'. If anything, the coffin's the most honest piece of furniture I’ve seen all week – at least it’s not pretending to be anything it’s not. Unlike certain MPs.

Still, I’d like some reassurance that it’s not going to be reclaimed during the next full moon.

There was another item there I liked the look of - a nice, large mirror for £200.

The problem was that I couldn't see my reflection in it....